


All senses busy

by Anonymous



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 20:58:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13372938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/





	All senses busy

They may be in a rut, from the way they go about things lately, but neither of them has broached the subject yet. He certainly wouldn't. The idea alone and the implication of domesticity makes Gokudera want to hurl hard things against the wall. Possibly his own head.

It's just that--sometimes they go home, and Gokudera feels tiredness in his bones and a pounding headache. The smell of gunpowder starting to bug even him, of all people, and he wouldn't think for a million years that he'd be able to get it *up*, then he stumbles to the kitchen in the middle of the night to get water and there is Yamamoto almost draped against it.

He'd look even more exhausted than Gokudera, chewing on a leftover dumpling, like he doesn't even have the energy to make his lips quirk upward.

"Hey," Yamamoto would say, and he'd mumble back a reply. Yamamoto isn't thinking about it either, or thinking of not thinking about it so maybe that's what makes Gokudera lower his guard.

They make small talk only suitable for one in the morning. Gokudera doesn't think anything about brushing up against him on the way to the refrigerator door to grab his drink, but arms brush against each other and the next thing he knows he is pushed against the counter and Yamamoto's warm hands are brushing his cock through his boxers and his bottled water drops to the floor and rolls off to oblivion.

"What are you doing," Gokudera demands but he already his arms are draped around Yamamoto's shoulders, fingers clutching at his short hair.

His hips strain upward for more contact, already trembling for a release, and Yamamoto's hands clamp on him, as if by instinct, lifting him up to sit on the counter. His breath staggers in relief, gasping, "Oh god, thanks." before he can even stop himself.

Yamamoto is leaning with his full weight against Gokudera but he allows it, if only because beneath the surface of lust and the sloppy kisses he showers over Gokudera's ear is the ever present fatigue. If he isn't so selfish he'd tell the baseball freak to just quit it and go to sleep already--they have an early morning to think about as well. But Yamamoto is stroking his cock with that flick that always, always makes Gokudera whimper, takes him to a place where there's no going back.

He gasps out, "Faster," instead of, "Stop." Fucking dick with a mind of it's own.

Their bodies are in autopilot, can no longer operate without daily sex. This bothers him somehow.

Gokudera's brain starts ticking off numbers and schedules--screw this, how are they managing to have this much sex while they're trying to obliterate the Yakuza stranglehold at the Nagoya area, it's an unforgivable diversion of energy--even as Gokudera squirms into Yamamoto's ministrations.

Everyone knows frequency diminishes quality, and perhaps these almost-perfunctory gropings are hurting their average, so to speak. Sex for them has ran through the spectrum of "good" to "mind numbingly spectacular" and the one thing Gokudera Hayato refuses to do is anything than can be considered "passable."

The spark of an idea starts to form in his head as his right foot starts press on to the back of Yamamoto's legs, surely bruising him there. Gokudera's hips lift from the counter tiles as Yamamoto grinds their bodies closer. Yamamoto lets out a breathless laugh and that is one more typical reaction whenever they fuck--they are predictable now, what the hell--and it's automatic how Gokudera's hand reach for him through his flimsy pajama bottoms. Dammit, they're so close, and Gokudera clamps his mouth over Yamamoto's shoulder to keep from moaning in frustration.

Yamamoto runs a thumb across the underside of his cock, smearing precome and he grunts, feeling the the inevitable heat as he comes, pure sensation uncurling from his gut like a coil. He has enough presence of mind to keep jacking off Yamamoto until he hears the relieved sigh against his neck. He allowed himself to hold on a bit longer than was strictly necessary.

He bullies Yamamoto into cleaning up after them.


End file.
